


Shame it Took This Long

by Sharkie02



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Flower Language, It's not specifically timed this way, Tall trees and Towel theft I guess, You can splice the drabbles in where ever, though Jes' is supposed to be the last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 19:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkie02/pseuds/Sharkie02
Summary: Fjord has been with this group for a long while, he’s been wanting to say love for almost the same amount time. Give him a little more time to say it and he will.





	Shame it Took This Long

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got this done! Major thanks to Spudato for reviewing and editing because damn this needed it. I wanted to try something longer and in present tense so I hope this has done that.  
Just so you know:  
Alstroemeria - Friendship  
Yellow Roses - Friendship and Joy  
Hydrangeas - Gratitude  
Sunflowers - Happiness  
Purple Hyacinths - Sorrow, Forgiveness and Regret  
White Tulips - Worthiness and Seeking Forgiveness  
Irises - Faith, Hope and Wisdom  
Pink Roses - Happiness, Joy, Gratitude and Admiration

The false night looks the same as it ever did as Caduceus and Fjord sit beneath it and even closer to them is the tall tree, and they’ve been in the Dynasty so long that their tree is more imposing than the sky. Though the tree is more comforting surely, comforting to the both of them now Fjord has moved into calmer waters.

Now it offers more comfort like the sturdy curving wall of a ship and it’s natural to meditate against it, and he can hear Caduceus’ slow breathing beside him as he does as he was instructed and begins replaying the Firbolg’s list in his head; breathe in, listen, breathe out and repeat. It’s simple enough but even so Fjord finds it surprising how quick he takes to the regimen, so much so that the day before he had sat there alone for almost more than an hour, although it is originally for contemplation about recent events and less about getting to grips with nature. But now it’s thinking about the Wildmother and whatever she brought with her; it all seems far better than before but Fjord is still unsure.

“You’re still thinking, but you’re less worried now than when we were in volcano,” Caduceus speaks, announcing it into dimly lit air and uncrossing his legs with his eyes still shut.

Fjord lets his eyes flicker open slightly to see the change in shape but quickly shuts them again as if he would be told off for doing so. “Uh, yeah. It is still a lot to think about and consider.” Deciding to copy his mentor, he stretches his legs out, making sure to push further into the tree. “I don’t even know how the Wildmother feels about me, why did she choose me? Rather than leaving me or pushing me onto some other god or goddess, I…I don’t understand.”

A loud, patient, but possibly tired sigh almost causes the lights to move, the Half-Orc opening his eyes and turning to look at his friend, finding it surprising to find that he is looking back at him, greenish turquoise ears flopping down almost passing his chin and a smile that said _will you be so kind as to listen to me?_, but in the kindest way.

“I think she cares about you a great deal Mr Fjord, a lot more than you think.”

“Thank you, Caduceus.”

“But she doesn’t care about you as much as I do, of course.” The smile from before grows wider and eyes far softer.

“Ah…uh, thank you…Caduceus,” is the only reply, far too aware of what his family had just said, and Fjord moves, turning forward again and pressing his back even closer to the wood of the Tree, and it doesn’t take long for the slow breathing to resume.  
\--------

“You’ve got to like, you know, move on your feet more man. You keep on sticking in the same place ‘s why I can knock you over so easily”, Beau jumps back to her feet, landing square for the sake of flare, keeping her legs bent and hands ready as she complains.

Fjord in turn hops from one foot to the other with hot rocks in mind, trying not to break the wood of the platform whilst ever so quietly hoping he could; strength is never something he had been really using, but he really wants to now.

“Ok ok I know that, I will one hundred percent focus on that this time around, I swear.”

“Fjord, that is—” a deliberately missed side jab so the Paladin leans left, “—what you said—” a threat of a step so the Half-orc goes through with a similar idea, backing up “—one hundred times—” curling to meet ankle to ankle “—before this.” and pull.

THUD

“And how the mighty cocky Paladins fall.” It’s an easy gloat, but well deserving. Beau tugs Fjord back up onto his feet.

Turning around Fjord stares at the invisible shape of his butt in the floor and resigns to say, “I have so much work to do with the sword alone.” His hand lowers to his side to tap out an old sea shanty thumb to fingers in an effort to breathe.

“Look, Fjord. Anything and everything has work to it, said it before and I’ll say it again, and it took me more than two years to even catch my roommate’s eye, interpret that as you will. But it’s effort that sucks ass, but it’s still effort and look at the pay-off,” the Monk says whilst showing off with stretches that would usually break someone’s back.

“I know that, I know. All of what you’re saying makes sense and it’s going in but it’s taking weeks for anything to come out. Beau why are you even bothering teaching me this stuff?” the Paladin exclaims as he is coming to the end of the line at this moment. The tapping having more reason than rhyme.

Beau starts to answer, pausing, then truly begins. “I’m doing it ‘cuz I love you, man, and with everything going on I’d much rather you know a lot of smaller things than just one big thing. You're new to this Paladin of the Wildmother junk and it’s better to be over prepared than under, sound good?” A quick clap over the shoulder is all Fjord feels before he hears soft footsteps heading in some kind of direction. “Take the rest of the time off man, but be here same time tomorrow or I’ll have Jester drag you out of bed.” And she’s gone.

He’s left in silence again after a declaration but this time alone, he still beyond appreciates the sentiment which rings around his mind, the idea of sister in tow.  
\--------

As he lies in bed Fjord could see the shadows of a figure on the other side of his bedroom door, toying with the idea of knocking after already going through why they would knock five hours beforehand. Fjord knows who it is all things considered but he lets the ‘should I, shouldn’t I’ continue for a little while longer.

“Caleb. I’m awake, you can come in.”

“Verdammt- uh oh, ok.”

The handle tips down and after a creek the landing’s light races across the floor, cutting a chunk out of the bed, almost slicing Fjord’s foot with gold, but he slips his feet to the floor just on time and pads over to the door, opening it fully without a sound. Shocking the wizard at the landing, dressed in shades of brown that are probably pyjamas that are almost dwarfing the human, the shirt threatening to fall off the shoulder whilst the trousers are kept tight by a straining drawstring. It was making him seem more startled at being face to face with his target but it makes Fjord — dressed in boxers — want to pull his dirty cream shirt back on. 

“What is the matter Caleb?”

“It’s about the other day, in the forest,” he starts. “About you not having components.”

“Oh yeah, that wasn’t the best time, sorry,” Fjord begins, leaning against the door frame at the same time as his foot begins tracing lines in the groves of the floorboards.

“Oh no I- I didn’t come here to shame you, Fjord, no. I’m here to offer you components for next time.” Whatever kind of kind fire that had brought him here has rekindled and is burning up again.  
“Ah oh well uh, that is really kind of you, Caleb. Are you sure you can spare that kind of thing? I know it is something you specialise in.”

“Of course I do not mind, you’re important to me and I’d rather you not go without and something bad happening. Though, I do now realise that I should have waited till morning to bring this up with you. Sorry if I woke you.” Nervousness set in aching Caleb’s bones to move, and he starts running his right hand over the fabric of the left sleeve.

“Caleb, honestly, I do not mind. You can wake me up whenever, though I do think it would be a good idea to revisit this in the morning because for the life of me, I cannot remember any of the ingredients I need.” Making his tracing more obvious, the Half-orc begins to trace lines in between him and the Wizard; a cloud, a rolling wave, a fish, an infinite symbol.

“Well then, I shall see you tomorrow,” Caleb exclaims, bowing slightly and turning for his room downstairs.

Fjord stays at the door to watch him walk down the stairs with his hand at the wall. As he shuts the door and makes for his bed once again, he’s fumbling with the fact that Caleb’s fabric fidgeting had offered him comfort as well, almost as much as his ship styled shutters do, if not more.  
\--------

“You know,” a shrill voice slides in. “I didn’t think you were serious about being in a hot tub with clothes on, yet here you are.” If sarcasm is tangible, Fjord has found it in Nott.

Fjord is currently in the hot tub with his boxers on, eyes shut even after Nott had spoken despite how sudden it is. Feet resting on a stray rock while his head is on a towel at the edge, he hums back to let her know she had been heard (but not thought important enough to respond to).

“That’s weird, you being in the bath all relaxed and shit. Aren’t you like, scared or something? After all that happened to you?” Although Fjord can’t see he can hear Nott stick a limb into the hot water, then pulling it back out again slowly. Not burnt but carefully backing away.

Fjord exhales.

“Not…particularly. I think, I’m being serious when I say this but I think I’m more scared of explosions. I mean that is what inevitably pushed me into the ocean. Though- though I’m less scared now. I think exposure therapy thanks to you has done me good.” He ends by opening his eyes and smiling in an effort to not sound accusatory; he didn’t intend to, and still doesn’t. With his eyes open he can now see Nott staring at the water, deep in her mind.

“That’s impressive…. you’re impressive, and loved. I hope you know that Fjord.” It’s questioningly said — not that she didn’t believe it, but that she didn’t believe he would actually understand its weight. She picks up the pile of towels she had been gathering while Fjord was dozing and left.

“Why do you need all of those towels?”

“None of your fucking business!”  
\--------

Being back on the move has been putting Fjord in good spirits, and now even at night is no different. Sitting on the ground with his back against a log his Night time companion had cut, with her sitting on it further towards the end. While he is humming an old lullaby from the orphanage, tapping his foot against the wormwood markings, Yasha is quietly making a flower crown and taking a few seconds to look up at the powdery sky then back down at her own private rainbow.

“Caduceus has been teaching me flower language,” she says, looking towards the spitting fire this time, and at the same time she rolls the end of a piece of string in her left hand. “It’s good to know that nice things like flowers have nice meanings too.”

Fjord sat refraining from talking about all the negative flower meanings, but he didn’t even need to; creaking wood and a flower crown being put on his head, far more gently than how the tree had been dethroned, is good enough in breaking his thoughts.

He makes to take it off but stops himself from that too, going back to leaning against the log.

“It’s good that flowers have meanings. I think it suits them, to mean something,” comes fumbling into the night.

“Yeah, it makes it a lot easier for people to express themselves, or admit things, or say things privately. It gives you a lot of options.”

The last one seems to stump Yasha, her hair rising slightly, and she’s staring at the remaining flowers in her lap with a different kind of interest.

“I suppose you're right.” Then, she starts up again, pulling flowers up from behind her and at her sides. Flowers that Fjord had yet to know the meaning of, though right now he didn’t think he would want to know their meanings; it was looking too personal, for some reason.

Stretching out Fjord finally reaches for his flower crown, pulling it onto his lap slowly, out of fatigue and care. A winding mirage of alstroemeria, yellow roses, hydrangeas, sunflowers, purple hyacinths, white tulips and irises.

It all makes Fjord sad, a private admission even though Yasha had already repeated how guilty she felt far more times than there are flowers in the crown. But happiness blooming through and pushing forward reflecting in how many more yellow roses there are against the hyacinths, the fact that the sunflowers almost covering all the tulips. Even after everything that had been done and said, the flowers in Fjord’s lap made up of sadness, regret, wish for forgiveness, happiness, hope and love, it makes his heart ache just a little more.

“I don’t really know who your next collection is for, but pink roses might be a good choice. Ask Caduceus when he wakes up what it means, he can tell you it’s translation far better than I can right now.”  
“Thank you Fjord.”

“It’s the least I can do Yasha,” he replies, as he sets his crown back on his head with no plan to take it off any time soon.  
\--------

The deep red of the carpet looks off against green skin, but Fjord is too tired and with a swamping headache to think about it deeply when he’s focusing more on getting something to drink, so he can breathe normally again without the stale sting of salt and alcohol from the night before.

In the dim light and haziness of just passing sleep, the expansive stairs down seems like a crashing wave, or maybe Fjord is more drunk than hungover but he pushes on till he’s flat footed again, trying to move in the direction of the bar. No longer trusting his eyes to tell the truth he moves towards where he believes the bar to be and is happy to be correct when barefoot meets metal chair. Managing it sit down results in the half-orcs head hitting the table with a dull thunk, his tusks not letting some of his face reach the surface and the action only serving to worsen his pain.

“Fjord, are you ok?” Jester asked with concern, or maybe sadness (what had Fjord walked in on?). Her hands are clasping a tall glass of milk, a complicated blue straw in the shape of a flamingo held still by her fingers.

“Mhgood, jus tired, throat rough, head hurty,” is the well strung response.

“Want some milk?”

“Yeth.”

Jester gets up off her seat, turns so her back is to the table, and she hops up onto the counter and swings her legs around, dropping to the other side quickly. It is pretty graceful all thing considered, but then again, Jester is always graceful in some kind of way, whether it's intentional or not.

After rummaging around in the icebox, Jester pulls out a single tankard of milk, pouring some into a glass almost the same size as her own until it gets close to spilling, then moves it over towards Fjord before pulling the same trick to get back over the table.

“Sorry, we don’t have any more funky straws, we ran out yesterday when me and Nott tried to attach them all together to make a super long working straw,” she says, still sounding a little forlorn.

“It’s ok Jes, I’ll just have to get first dibs when the next lot of straws come in,” he says with a smile, his headache now quieter but still lightly dragging a scouring pad over the insides of his brain.  
“Yeah, then me and Nott can try again.”

“Are you saying you _didn’t_ succeed last night?”

“Look some of them had cracks in them ok! It isn’t our fault!” False hurt curls Jester’s smile, covering whatever is there before.

“Hmm, sure.”

Silence returns blanketing over the scene like sediment, lasting for as long as the passionate cleric and passive Paladin could keep it.  
Fjord breaks the silence.

“I love you Jester, you know that right? I love all of you guys. I feel like with everything going on it’s not said enough so yeah, I love you all a lot.”

Glass scrapes over the counter as Jester jolts, her head whipping to look at Fjord who is now crossing his arms and his head resting on them, eyes wide and staring at Jester, who in turn stares back in a similar expression, blue hands working their way around the glass again and smiling faintly before finally getting a grip on the situation.

“We love you too Fjord, very very much.”

“I know, now I know.”

Once again silence returns, less grainy and more peaceful. Fjord tapping against his milk glass.

“Hey, if you get the straws for next time do you think I could help?”

“Of course!”


End file.
